A Beautiful Nightmare
by DuskFairie
Summary: L has broadcasted his message to Kira, and the killer reveals himself to be a challenging opponent. That's good, he likes a challenge, but knows that he may need help with this case. With his successors being still too young, he turns to the man he incriminated several years ago, a serial killer known as B. (BBxL)


_A/N. The first chapter now posted C: So happy to see that some people took an interest in this story and because of Mordollwen Castiel's request (and nobody elses objection lol .o.) it will now be a BBxL yaoi story :P (Sorry Light-kun! You don't mind if B borrows him, right? ^^) Anyways, hope that you enjoy and if there's anything that you would like to see happen or any ideas that you wish to share I would be very interested in hearing them! (especially about B's character!) Thanks for reading C: ~DF  
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Prologue

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The pale detective stared at the screen that was now left with only the singular, black gothic letter; L. His broadcast had just finished, the result- a criminal who was on death row and sentenced to die that day murdered by the new serial killer known as 'Kira', however he had also just obtained some vital clues now about their motives and capabilities of being able to kill.

He wouldn't have believed it, if if hadn't just seen it with his own eyes.

He swept his thumb over his bottom lip, and considered his options carefully, though that wasn't to say that he was thinking slowly -no- his mind was processing this information more quickly than most other humans could have kept up with. Most other humans. He paused. Was that exactly the truth?

Both his parents had died when he was young, and he was taken in by an orphanage for gifted children. There, he had found the closest thing that he would ever find again to a home. A place where, if it hadn't been for his poor social skills and traumatic past, he may have actually fit in. After leaving, and quickly becoming the worlds greatest detective, his home -Wammy's- had started training the new orphans to take his place, if something would ever happened to him. The first of those... candidates, committed suicide from the pressure. The second, turned into a serial killer, challenging L and setting out for bloody revenge.

Beyond Birthday, or, as he had bitterly referred to himself in front of Roger as on several occasions- Backup. B. Nothing but a letter, a tool, and it had wrenched at L's heart that a human had reduced themselves to such a morbid level of comprehended existence.

But B was still alive.

And if it came down to it, stripping away the resentment and hatred that he held towards the detective himself, he would probably love the challenge of finding Kira before L.

The raven haired detective smiled faintly. His other successors were too young to take on a case like this, but the man who had once already almost outsmarted even himself was far more than capable. If he could get him to agree.

The boredom and insanity it inflicted from sitting inside a cell was more than enough incentive, he deduced and boredom for a genius was more unbearable to live with than to being deprived of basic necessities like proper food and sleep. If L placed himself in the same position, he knew that he would grasp at any form of mental stimulation and freedom that presented itself, or if not, given the choice, would end his own life. B's existence was now empty. This would give him a purpose, and L an alibi.

He pressed the connection for the phone line in to make a call, the noise crackling over the speaker to fall onto his butler's ears who was always within contact; a mutual friendship that had evolved between them over the years. "Watari," came the sharp, determined voice. The older man immediately brought his finger to the earpiece and pressed it in so that he could hear L's voice more clearly. Everyone inside the special investigation headquarters at Tokyo police station was oblivious to this sudden, subtle movement. "Yes, Ryuzaki?" Came his swift reply.

"I need you to remove all records of Beyond Birthday from the internet; every article and report that was ever published about the Los Angeles killings. Make sure especially that there are no images of him left anywhere and delete all of the online police and court records or at least make sure that his name is omitted from all of them,"

The old man paused, his eyes widening slightly behind the black covering, concealing his identity. "Something like that might take some time,"

"We haven't got time," L cut in, his voice raising from it's usual monotone bordering on instruction, "not now with Kira." He added more softly, and Watari could imagine him pacing back and forth which was his usual habit whenever he was alone.

"Yes. I understand."

He turned his back to the investigation room, and folded the laptop up, tucking it underneath his arm. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid that I must leave you for the rest of the day. L will be in contact soon."

Though Watari wasn't quite sure what the detective was thinking, it was clear that he needed B to somehow help solve this case. He was used to L's unorthodox methods, of the risks -often at the expense of others- that he took. But why he would need the assistance of the boy, who had now turned into a man of sorts he supposed, and previous serial killer baffled him.

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Watari carried out the detective's instructions, while L had promptly made arrangements to fly to the US -Los Angeles, specifically- and had boarded the plane that night, arriving in what was the early morning. He didn't bother to rest before he traveled to the state prison where B was kept. His body was used to situations like this.

His eyes were glazed over dully, yet deceptively alert, as the warden led him down the hall; eventually stopping at a cell near the end. He mumbled a quiet thank you, as the other man inclined his head silently then left and L peered into the shadows as best he could from that distance, however there was nothing visible to the naked eye apart from darkness. He took another step forward warily and listened for any noises, trying to cancel out those that echoed throughout the rest of the ward.

Hesitantly, he wrapped his hand around one of the iron bars, his eyes wide and gazing in; the hair standing on the back of his neck as he realized that someone was probably staring back at him just as intently, and for a moment, in the darkness, something gleamed crimson. Or to be more exact, two things.

"B?" He questioned, his voice barely audible and he heard a shuffle from the far corner. Then footsteps.

And then, he could see.

His own obsidian eyes widened and his body froze as he took in the man who was coming towards him. His face was expressionless -emotionless- his raven colored hair passing his shoulders; color bones jutting out even more sharply than L's own. His pale, chiseled features had become haughtily gaunt.

B brought a scarred hand up to grasp on a bar. He didn't look up, he was staring at the floor, or to L it seemed rather _through_ the floor. There was a vagueness about the man that scared the detective. He knew it was dangerous to be this close to him, but something about it was also thrilling. It was just like looking into a mirror. A possibility.

"_L._" He replied quietly, more to acknowledge him than to supply any form of greeting. L had to admit, he thought that the killer would have had more of a reaction to seeing him again, some kind of shock, or anger at least, but there was nothing. An emptiness. Although, that wasn't quite right either. He had seen a spark when B had looked at him with those eyes when he had called out to him before.

After a relenting moment, the look-a-like's lips pulled into a smirk, and he brought his gaze up to meet the man's; his deep amber irises flecked with crimson. He rested his forehead against the metal that kept him trapped in that small room. He had smashed the lights out a long time ago, he couldn't stand to look at it all day, the darkness was so much more appealing. The darkness helped him escape. He could pretend that he was back at Wammy's, he could pretend that A was still alive, and he could pretend that his life past that point had just been some sort of beautiful, twisted nightmare that he would be released from in time by death. He didn't belong here. Nobody thought that they did. But B _knew _that he didn't. Immature, yes, he had been only seventeen at the time, but his logic had been flawless. The perfect criminal versus the -_near perfect_- detective.

"I need your help." L said in a hushed voice -hesitant- even though he had expected it, he knew that he had no right to ask for it. And B knew it too. The killer would have laughed, but it was a noise that he had perfected to make so frightening that even he couldn't bear to listen to it anymore. After a long, cumulative minute B opened his mouth to reply in a voice that was slightly lower than the detectives own. But it was familiar to L all the same. They had spoken once when he had visited Wammy's. The man, who had then only been a teenager, had claimed something that had awarded his attention. To see the names of people floating above their heads, and more disturbingly...

Numbers. Ones that counted down until a persons death. He had dismissed it as trauma. Schizophrenia. The detective himself had gone through stages of mental instability; depression, attempted suicide... hearing voices in his head. But that was all locked away now. Kept under control by logic and reason. He wouldn't allow it to surface, because he had convinced himself that it wasn't there. The whole time he had hidden it so well that even Watari hadn't realized it's existence. But B was starkly different. He was unpredictable. A criminal. An unafraid genius.

L knew that bringing him to the case held it's dangers. B had whispered his name when they had first met; it had been barely inaudible as he had left the room, but the detective had caught it; staring after him wide-eyed as the raven haired teen turned and walked down the hall, his posture slumping, his hands shoved in his pockets. Mimicking him perfectly.

"Lawli..." It was an abbreviation of what he had muttered back then. There was a fondness, a bitterness attached as B ran his forehead over the bars, those crimson flecks in his eyes seemed to deepen as he stared at L in amusement. "Lawli needs _my_ help?" He clarified unnecessarily, as his grin widened. The heavy clang of his skull against the metal was almost sickening now, and L swallowed before bringing his gaze down to stare at the burn scars on B's hands, feeling a pang of guilt as he was reminded that he had set himself alight, with the resolve to burn himself to death.

"Yes..."


End file.
